It was thought that the gods blew on creative people, who would then inhale the god's breath and have an idea. This is the premise of "inspiration": inhaling divine breath and ideas.

Friday, October 17, 2008

à la mode......

#133 - My StyleThe prompt this week is: My Style. Do you know what your style is? Or you have you ever said, "That's not my style!" Do you have a personal style? What do you think about style? It's a weird word when you look at it. What do you make of style?

Style is a weird word. I am confused about my style. But I am sure about one thing which is that I have no one particular style. I try different things. I love some styles, I hate some styles and I am biased to try some styles. To share with some of my wierd experiences of Styles is my sole purpose of writing this post.....

I love my curly long hair. It's been a trademark from my childhood. Even in my wildest dreams I cannot imagine 'Straight haired Medhini'. As a kid, I wasn't naughty but I was of that sort which never believed in grooming/ combing hair. The ones which could easily recognized from a distance because there was ugly/sticky/non oiled hair sticking out of their head. Like how other kids of my age used to panic at the word 'Bath' I would panic at the word 'Comb'. Once a week my mother would be successful in completing the task of properly plaiting my hair and it always annoyed me. I loved looking like a rag. I never believed in princess and their fairy tales. As I grew older, I was allured to the many ways of grooming. My little sister was an expert with cosmetics, she's been using lipsticks since the age of four. I loved to look at her applying red lip sticks with those tiny hands. She's been my Guru (teacher) in grooming.

Now when I ponder about the word 'style', I realize that the best style is to be 'yourself'. Instead of using the word 'style' as a basic accessory, it's more rightly used as 'Attitude'. Being comfortable in what you wear which reflects what you really are! Trying to portray some one by cheap imitaion is never fulfilling. Seeing yourself in the mirror with a beaming smile is definitely more pleasing than having to wear high heels and trying to dress like the Miss World herself. Using make up or wearing expensive clothes doesn't make one stylish neither atteding fashion shows and Page 3 parties makes one stylish. If you truly believe in what you are (with make up or without), that's the end of it.

Style really is being able to express yourself ....... Everything else is imitation!

well said, medhini. myself, i've always been a little lackadaisical when it comes to looking perfect. i keep my hair short because i don't have the patience to fuss with it and i put on makeup in the morning and hardly ever touch up during the day. my boss once laughed at the size of my makeup bag because she says i never wear any! and, it's true! yes, to me style, more than anything is a reflection of the self, not the way one dresses it up.

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Thus spoke the wise

I never dreamed of being Shakespeare or Goethe, and I never expected to hold the great mirror of truth up before the world; I dreamed only of being a little pocket mirror, the sort that a woman can carry in her purse; one that reflects small blemishes, and some great beauties, when held close enough to the heart.

Peter Altenberg

“The happiest people are those who think the most interesting thoughts. Those who decide to use leisure as a means of mental development, who love good music, good books, good pictures, good company, good conversation, are the happiest people in the world. And they are not only happy in themselves, they are the cause of happiness in others.”

The days grew longer and nights grew shorter. They met every night in the forest by the waterfalls. As the moon rose in the mid skies an...

In the amusement park by Peter Altenberg

»I want a blue balloon! I want to have a blue balloon!«»There's a blue balloon for you, Rosamond!«They told her it had a gas in it that was lighter than the air in the atmosphere, so that, etc., etc.»I want to let it go –,« she said simply.»Wouldn't you like to give it to that poor little girl over there?!?«»No, I want to let it go –!«She lets the balloon go and follows it with her eyes until it vanishes in the blue sky.»Now aren't you sorry you didn't give it to the poor little girl?!?«»Yes, I would have rather given it to the poor little girl!«»There's another blue balloon; give it to her as a present!«»No, I want this one to go up into the blue sky, too.« – She lets it go.They buy her a third blue balloon.Without being told, she walks over to the poor little girl, gives her the balloon and says, »You letit go, too!«»No,« says the poor little girl and looks at the balloon, all excited.In the room it floated up to the ceiling, stayed there for three days, turned darker, shriveled, droppeddead – a black little sack.The poor little girl thought, »I should have let it go, up into the blue sky, and I'd have watched it go, watched it –!«In the meantime the rich little girl received ten more balloons, and one day Uncle Carl boughther all thirty of them at once. Twenty she let go up into the sky, and ten she gave away to poorchildren. From then on she wasn't interested in balloons any longer. Not at all.»Silly balloons –!« she said.This made Aunt Ida think that she was a rather precocious little girl.The poor little girl kept dreaming, »I should have let it go, up into the blue sky, and I'd have watched it rise up into the sky, watched it –!«